Diehl, William - Show of Evil (12 page)

BOOK: Diehl, William - Show of Evil
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She glared into the darkness as a large, bulky man moved away from
the shrubs. He was tall and muscular, a powerful black man, his
features obscured by the dark. 'What the hell do you want?' Naomi
demanded, and took her hand out of her pocket. 'Keep your distance,
this is a can of Mace.'

'Whoa,' the big man said, and stopped in his tracks, fumbling in his
coat pocket. 'Man, they warned me you were rough and ready,' he said in
a deep voice, and laughed. He held out his hand and flipped open his
wallet. A gold badge twinkled in the streetlights.

'Detective Zack Lyde, Chicago PD,' he said. 'My boss, Shock Johnson,
loaned us out to the DA and the DA says keep an eye on you. So that's
just what my partner and I are doin', Ms Chance, keepin' an eye on you.'

Naomi's breath came out in a rush. 'You scared the shit out of me,
son,' she said.

'I'll tell you, that can of Mace gave my pulse a little kick, too.
Look, why not let us drive you home? We need to clear your apartment
when we get there and then just kinda, you know

Thirty-Four

It was easy to trace the phone number. Morris had attached a digital
readout to the monitor and had the number listed in his log. Stenner
made one phone call and got the rest of the information.

'City Hospital,' he said. 'The last three digits, 4-7-8, is the
office extension. He was calling the billing department.'

'Why in hell was he calling the billing department at City
Hospital?' Vail wondered aloud.

'And why'd he get a bad connection?' asked St Claire.

Meyer, the computer expert, had been sitting in the corner listening
to the discussion. He turned to his computer and entered the modem
program, then brought up the menu. He dialled the phone number,
555-7478, and listened to it ring as he watched his computer screen.
The screen went black for a moment, then the word CONNECT flashed on
and another menu appeared across the top of the screen.

'There's your answer,' he said. 'He was calling a modem line. Vulpes
was talking to a computer.'

'With what?' Parver asked.

'Yeah. Where'd he get a computer?' St Claire asked.

'I don't know, but that's what the call was all about, that's the
hum on the line,' said Meyer. 'If he stayed on for ninety seconds and
he's a computer expert, he knew exactly what he was doing.'

'Maybe we ought to roust him and ask him,' said Flaherty.

'On what grounds?' Vail said. 'He's a free man. If he does have a
computer, it's understandable. It's his business. But if he's using it
to trigger the copycat, then we got him.'

He dialled Morris.

'Yes, sir?'

'This is Martin, Bobby. What's Vulpes up to right now?'

'He's watchin' a video.
Sleepless in Seattle
.'

'You're sure he's there?'

'We can hear him laughing. Few minutes ago he was singing "As Time
Goes By" with Jimmy Durante.'

'Is the back door covered?'

'Sure.'

'You stay on top of this guy, Bobby. He makes any phone calls or
does anything out of the ordinary, call the office immediately.'

'Absolutely.'

Vail hung up. 'He's in his room watching a video, they can hear him
on the room tap.'

He paced his office for a few moments. 'All right, here's what we're
going to do,' he said. 'Harve and Ben, come with me. We'll check out
the billing department at the hospital. Shana and Dermott, stay here in
the office and monitor the phones. And call Naomi right now just to
make sure she's protected. Anything happens? Any calls from Morris or
anybody else, call me on the portable. Abel, I want you to take Jane
home and stay with her, and I mean in the house with her until I get
back. I don't trust anyone else but you to protect her. And I want the
house guard to patrol the entire perimeter. Any questions? Good. Let's
get on with it.'

The emergency ward at City Hospital looked like a battle zone. Three
ambulances were parked at the entrance, one with its red light still
blinking. Once inside, Vail, Meyer, and St Claire were greeted with a
rush of noise and motion. An aide raced by pushing a young woman on a
gurney. Her face was covered by an oxygen mask and IVs were protruding
from both arms. Her eyes were half open and her head wobbled back and
forth with the movement of the
stretcher. A young doctor was racing along beside it, shouting orders
to a nurse who held open the door to the OR preparation station.

'I got a compound fracture of the lower leg, possible head injuries,
I need a CAT scan before we go to OR.'

'We're ready for her,' the nurse yelled back.

Another doctor dashed from the receiving room, his gown streaked
with blood, and headed up the hall.

'Excuse me,' Vail said, but the MD waved him off.

Thirty-Five

When Shock Johnson arrived at Judge Harry Shoat's condominium, three
patrol cars were already there. The six patrolmen had searched the
grounds around the perimeter of the two-storey building, but on
Johnson's instructions had not attempted to enter the condo.

'We knocked on the door and tried him on the phone,' said a sergeant
who had taken charge of the small force. 'No answer from inside and no
answer on the phone.'

'Shit,' Johnson grumbled. He tucked his hands in his rear pockets
and stared at the house.

'What's the layout, Sergeant?' he asked, without taking his eyes off
the condo.

'One-floor condominium. The people upstairs are wintering in
Georgia, so he's the only one in the building right now. There's a
terrace with a six-foot fence around there on the side, windows in back
and on that side. The place is dark and his car's in the garage.'

'Where the hell's his goddamn bodyguard? What's his name?'

'Hicks, sir. I called him. The judge dismissed him, told him to go
home. Hicks drives his car here every morning and they travel in the
judge's Mercedes, that's why it's in the garage.'

'Wasn't Shoat warned?'

'Hicks said he laughed at Vail.'

'Christ. Eckling's gonna have me for lunch when he gets back from
Atlanta.'

'The chief's in Atlanta?'

'Yeah, at some lawmen's convention. Free drinks and food what that's
about.' He looked around, pointed to a young, athletic patrolman.
'What's your name, son?' he asked.

'Jackowitz, sir.'

'Take that fence and see if you can see anything through the terrace
door. I don't wanna go kickin' in anythin' until I'm sure he's in
there.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Take a walkie-talkie and be cautious.'

Jackowitz took the fence like a pro, jumping up and grabbing the top
slat, chinning himself, and swinging first one leg then the other over
the top. He dropped down onto the terrace.

Johnson waited.

The walkie-talkie crackled to life.

'Terrace door's unlocked, sir.' Jackowitz reported.

'Oh, shit,' Johnson moaned. 'You got a flashlight?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Take a look inside, but be careful.'

'Going in.'

There was a minute or two of silence, then: 'Oh, sweet Jesus,
Lieutenant, I ain't believing this. I'm opening the front door.'

Johnson walked to the entrance and a moment later the front lights
flickered on and the door swung open and Jackowitz stared out at them.
Even in the dim light he was pale and swallowing hard.

'I been on the force twelve years, sir, I never seen anything the
likes of this.'

Johnson walked into the foyer and turned into the living room. Shoat
was lying in the middle of the room, naked, his arms folded across his
chest as if he had been laid out by a funeral director. The destruction
of the body was profound, from the wounds on his torso, legs, and arms,
to the emasculation of his private parts. There was blood
everywhere. Johnson stared at the scene for a full two minutes, the
muscles in his jaw twitching.

Finally he said, 'Where the hell's his head?' to nobody in
particular.

Thirty-Six

Morris and Soloman banged on the door of the halfway house until a
young man with long hair tied back in a ponytail stumbled down the
stairs and cracked open the door.

'Huh?' he said.

Morris showed him his ID. 'Police, open up,' he said.

'Police!' the young man said in a panic.

'We're just checking on the new man,' Morris said as he and Solomon
brushed past him and went up the stairs. Through the door, they heard
Vulpes's raspy voice singing a duet with Durante.

'Make someone happy

Thirty-Seven

The driving was going well, a breeze, in fact. Stampler had figured
out the cruise control and set it on 70, a safe speed according to
Rebecca. Hold it to 70, be sure to use your turn indicator when you
pass, do not drive erratically, she had told him. It's like swimming,
she had told him. You never forget how. Don't worry.

Worry? He never worried. Worry was destructive. He remembered a
quote from Emerson. '
What fears you endured, from evils that never
arrived
.' Worry sapped his strength, fear drained his energy.
Together they were destructive forces, distractions he could never
afford.

He turned his thoughts to Daisyland, to Max and Woodward,
patronizing him, telling him how 'well' he was doing. Panderers.
Treating him like a child. His grip on the steering wheel tightened
until his knuckles almost glowed in the dark. God, would he like to see
their faces now.

The news was coming on and he turned up the radio.

'Good morning, this is Jerry Quinn with the two A.M. edition of the
news. Updating the hottest story of the hour, in a bizarre murder case
that is still unfolding, Supreme Court Judge Harry Shoat was brutally
murdered in his Lakeshore condominium earlier tonight and his killer, a
deranged woman, was shot and killed while resisting arrest less than an
hour later. During a hastily called press conference at midnight, Lt.
Shock Johnson of the Chicago Police Homicide Division told reporters
Shoat was brutally murdered about 9 P.M.

'According to Johnson, Shoat's body was mutilated and he was
beheaded. His head was found an hour later in the apartment of Rebecca
Hutchinson at 3215 Grace Avenue. Ms Hutchinson was killed when she
attacked one of the
arresting officers with the same knife she allegedly used to kill Judge
Shoat.

'Acting District Attorney Martin Vail, who joined Johnson at the
press conference, said that his office has issued a murder warrant
against Raymond Vulpes, aka Aaron Stampler, of a central city address.
The warrant will charge Vulpes/Stampler with the murder of police
officer John Rischel and the attempted murders of attorney Jane Venable
and special officer Maj. Abel Stenner.

'Vail said these attacks took place at approximately the same time
Shoat was killed by Hutchinson. Vail identified Vulpes as Aaron
Stampler, confessed killer of Bishop Richard Rushman. Vail said
Stampler was released from the state mental institution at Daisyland
earlier in the day. Stampler has been a patient at Daisyland since the
Rushman murder ten years ago. Ironically, Vail defended Stampler in the
Rushman murder trial before becoming chief prosecutor of the district
attorney's office.

'Vail said Stampler will also be charged with one count of murder
and two counts of attempted murder and mayhem in the attacks on
well-known attorney Jane Venable and Maj. Abel Stenner, head of the
DA's Special Investigation Squad, both of whom also figured prominently
in the Rushman case. Here is a portion of acting DA Vail's statement.

' "We have reason to believe that Aaron Stampler, during the past
several years, communicated by computer with Ms Hutchinson, who was his
teacher in grammar school. We also believe Stampler abetted Ms
Hutchinson in two other murders. The murder of Mrs Linda Balfour at her
home in Gideon, Illinois, last October, and Alex Lincoln, a UPD
delivery person, in Hilltown, Missouri, a few weeks ago. In both cases,
the MO was exactly the same as was used in the Rushman murder. Stampler
also attacked attorney Jane Venable and detective Abel Stenner at Ms
Venable's home. Both are in critical condition in the Intensive Care
Unit of City Hospital but are expected to survive."

'Police have issued a five-state alarm for Stampler and will have an
updated photograph of him in about an hour. Stampler is thirty-five
years old, five-nine, weighs one hundred and fifty pounds, and has blue
eyes and blond hair. According to Ms Venable, she struck Vulpes during
the attack and he has a severe laceration on the left side of his jaw.
Police said Stampler should be considered armed and extremely dangerous
-'

Stampler snapped the radio off.

'Son of a bitch,' he said aloud. 'Son of a bitch!'
They killed
Rebecca! How did Vail track her down? What had gone wrong
He
slammed a fist into the steering wheel. His eyes glittered with hatred.
Venable and Stenner, who sat on the witness stand and told the court
that Stampler was faking it, had survived.

Well, he'd show them. Get-even time.
Get-fucking-even time
!

He passed the sign on the edge of the interstate:

SHELBYVILLE, NEXT EXIT.

This time there wouldn't be any mistakes.

He pulled into a sprawling truck-stop complex and parked in a dark
area off to the side of the restaurant. He checked his map and stuffed
it in his pocket, then went through the doctor's satchel again. He
opened a flat leather case and his eyes gleamed. It was a set of
scalpels. He took out the largest one, tapped his thumb on the blade,
and drew a drop of blood. He sucked it off and slipped the razor-sharp
tool in his breast pocket. He also took a hypodermic needle, a vial of
morphine, and a large roll of adhesive tape from the bag. He got out of
the car and locked it. He looked around. Nobody was near him. He
hastily opened the trunk and threw the doctor's satchel on top of
Rifkin's body. He slammed the trunk shut and walked off into the
darkness.

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